


Something Just Like This

by amelia_vale_official



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Galaxy Garrison, Galra Keith (Voltron), Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Near Future, Officer - Freeform, Older Keith, Post-War, Romance, SHEITH - Freeform, Very Mild Blood, Wingman Matt, after the war, balmeran crystal, disaster gay shiro can't compute, gay disaster takashi shirogane, give that boy long hair and a braid, keith is fucking gorgeous I love him, mainly some bruises and scratches, only slight hurt, post The Ruins, they suck at this, three years after war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelia_vale_official/pseuds/amelia_vale_official
Summary: In which Shiro tries to ask an important question, and Keith completely ruins his plans.((Title inspired by the song "Something Just Like This" by The Chainsmokers ft. Coldplay))





	Something Just Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imagines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines/gifts).



> I've wanted to write this forever and now I have the perfect reason to! This is a birthday fic for belovedsheith on Tumblr! @imagines here on Ao3! Happy birth, thank you so much for your incredible contribution to the Sheith ship, your writing is absolutely incredible and I really hope you enjoy this <3

Shiro was seventeen when he started to daydream about marriage. It was a wonder what prompted it, maybe it was the cold fact of his disease and his fate finally settling in that made him long for a forever with someone, or maybe it was just him being a silly kid. Either way, he remembered getting caught up in his dreams even while in the simulators, beet red when the instructors called him out for being distracted.

How was he supposed to explain to them why he had stars in his eyes, why he would sway back and forth in the seat humming something nonsensical that made the other pilots squint? Surely it wasn't normal for a teenage boy to dream about something like this, crisp white suit and tie with his hair slicked back and a ring on his hand. That kind of wish was reserved for girls, or men who'd already settled into their respective careers.

He dreamt of marriage, and before Kerberos, before the Galra and the war, he felt himself drawing closer to that dream, until the facets of the prism he'd bottled his romance in started to crack and shatter before falling from under his feet, sending him into a spiral of cruel, brutal reality. What right did he have to dream when death was knocking at his door? What kind of person would he be, to saddle the one he loved down with a man who only had two or three good years left in him before his body simply gave out?

Shiro pushed himself away and put distance between himself and the one he loved, and in doing so bred animosity and betrayal that he regretted. It was too late to go back to the way things were, though, that was so painfully evident once he'd finally set foot on Earth's surface again, after years in space fighting a war that was never really his. He felt guilt crowd his throat when his fingers traced over his name, but as time passed, the war ended, that guilt became easier to swallow into his chest, which swelled with only pride.

He felt lucky. He missed Adam, he always would, even if they never could have returned to the way they were, Shiro still cared for him as a person, as a friend, and he felt so entirely proud of the man he became, the kind to fearlessly put his life on the line in order to defend their home, and all the innocents who lived there.

Shiro was proud, grateful, he missed Adam, but he was happy, and in truth, things turned out so much better than he ever could have predicted. The sickness in his body had faded, he tried not to think too hard on the reason why, and as days and months passed, he felt better and better physically. The scars on his mind were as deep as the ones on his body, they were difficult to get through, but he wasn't alone. That was maybe the most important thing. He wasn't alone.

His year in captivity with the Galra, he truly learned what loneliness felt like, longing for the warmth of another person, another human. Then later in the inner essence of the Black Lion's consciousness with nothing but his own memories to keep him company, loneliness again ate at him. Returning to reality in a different body, eyes opening, the most prominent memory was the feeling of arms around him, warm and gentle.

He knew who it was even before he opened his eyes, because Keith always had a certain feel to him, a certain scent that hadn't changed even in space. He smelt like Earth, like desert sand and the sun as it bit down on them during their races through the jagged ridges and cliffs behind the Garrison. He smelt like home. He felt like home. Shiro clung to it.

Nothing seemed to be any different between he and Keith. During their journey home when he would switch from one lion to the other, he felt most comfortable with Keith in the Black Lion. He wanted to spend a bit of time with all of them, because he knew he worried them, he could still hear Lance crying, but he couldn't help his bias. He simply preferred being around Keith sometimes.

Even though he couldn't fight the ache in his chest when he saw the scar on his cheek, still red and raw as it healed slowly. Keith had been so bruised and beaten after their little stand-off, but despite it, he only ever gave Shiro smiles, and they weren't like any smile he'd received from the fiery paladin before. They were soft, gentle upturns of pink lips, eyes growing warm and heavy, the scar wrinkling somewhat disturbingly as his cheeks rose. Beautiful, Shiro remembered thinking, before shaking his head to get the thought away.

The first time they really spoke after the fact, the rest of the paladins were sleeping. They couldn't really tell the difference between night and day, the stars in the endless sky provided only minimal lighting, the rest coming from the luminescent violet lighting of the Black Lion's console, and the accents that ran along the walls.

It was just after they'd separated from Krolia, Shiro had chosen to ride with Keith for the time being, thinking he might be lonely after his mother had gone. Even though the cosmic wolf was almost always by Keith's side, Shiro wanted to be there as well.

Shiro had settled into a cot set up in the cargo hold for sleep, upon Keith's insistence, the paladin worrying over Shiro's clear exhaustion until he'd agreed to go back and rest. He couldn't sleep, though, despite the heaviness to his eyes. His body felt odd, his head felt light, as he sat up all he did was stare down at the blanket covering his legs and reach over to trail his fingertips idly over the chunk of twisted, melted metal heavy on his body, where his arm used to be. He was equal parts enthralled and disgusted that the Galra tech was no longer attached to him, and had only one person to thank for it.

Bringing their fight up was not on his to-do list when he walked into the cockpit, unable to sleep so just deciding to join Keith up front again. He paused as the door slid closed behind him, noting the paladin armor set aside on the floor to the right, Cosmo sitting on the left with his chin dutifully placed on the arm of the pilot's seat, tail sweeping the floor every few seconds at something Keith was doing.

Curiosity dragged Shiro from his spot until he was standing behind the seat, feeling his tongue slip deeper into his mouth until he was choking on it. Keith was sitting in the chair with his legs crossed on the seat, his black mesh under armor unzipped to pool around his waist, hanging in place by the belt still around his hips. His entire upper body and torso was exposed, pale skin glinting with the purple accents of the Black Lion's inner console.

There were yellow and black bruises, some tinted a horrid purple, scrapes and cuts and scars marred him, and it took Shiro's mind quite a few moments to catch up to what was happening. Keith had fought with Macidus, alone with only Cosmo for backup. Of course he would have one or two, or a few dozen, bruises and cuts left over. Shiro was angry at himself for not realizing.

Keith had fussed over him for looking a little out of it, but it was just unfair that he should be resting when Keith had been the one to fight and expend his energy, receiving injuries for his trouble, while Shiro hadn't even done anything.

Keith seemed to be concentrating on getting a bandage over a nasty scrape on his left shoulder, likely left over road rash from being thrown into the ground so many times. His brow was drawn and lips in a tight line, until his eyes flashed to Cosmo as if the wolf was speaking to him, then turned his head sharply to gape at Shiro, who tensed, holding his hand up.

"Keith," he greeted, and Keith settled his hands in his lap with a frown.

"What are you still doing up?"

"Ah, couldn't sleep," Shiro tried to offer, nodding to the pile of garbage in Keith's lap, indicating he'd been bandaging himself up for a while now, "Are you feeling okay?"

Keith looked down with a lame shrug of his bare shoulders, the subtle movement drawing Shiro's eye to the nasty scar on his right shoulder, a distant memory of the Trials of Marmora that revealed Keith's heritage.

"I've been worse," he said, reaching over to smooth the edges of the bandage on his shoulder, "I'm lucky. Last time I fought that Druid...," he trailed off, holding his right hand up and turning it around to stare at the palm, then the back of it, "I guess those two years with my mom, and those months training with Kolivon and the blades, really paid off in the end."

"Yea, you... you've gotten a lot stronger," Shiro said, eyes panning down Keith's chest and stomach before snapping back up to his face, grateful that he was still looking at his hand, "Let me help," Shiro offered, finally finding his bearings enough to stop staring numbly and instead walk around to stand in front of Keith, "I might not be able to do much with this," he waved his hand to his right shoulder, "but I want to help."

Keith gave a snort, but there was no mirth in the tiny smile he gave Shiro, "I know how to patch myself up, you know. They're just bumps and bruises anyway."

"Still, you need to take care of yourself," Shiro chided, falling easily into the mode of caretaker and mentor as he took one of the bandages from Keith, "Even minor injuries can be an inconvenience. Bruises can hurt and hinder your movement, making it difficult to fight like you're used to, and knowing you, you'll just push yourself even harder to compensate, and we can't have you dropping before we even reach Earth."

Keith was pouting at that, looking off to the side in indignation as Shiro tore open the packaging with his teeth, pulling out the adhesive space band-aid and crouching down. It was a new experience, trying to apply a bandage with one hand, but Keith did was he could to make it easier while still allowing Shiro his stubborn independence, holding his arm out so Shiro could reach a particularly nasty scrape that started from the inside of his elbow up his arm.

The joints of the paladin armor were in fact a lot softer than the rest of the armor, so Shiro wasn't surprised to see the unusual mark. His thumb traced the edges, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth at the heat the wound gave off.

"Kind of looks like a burn," he noted, taking the bandage in hand to smooth it out, while Keith gave a hum.

"From that lightning the Druid used; the magic."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not so much right now," Keith promised, watching Shiro as he carefully and reverently smoothed the edges of the bandage down, keeping a thumb in place to slide across the bandage and just staring.

Keith didn't try to stop him, just sat there watching the furrow of Shiro's brow, something heavy with memory echoing in his eyes. That's when he decided to reach out, and somehow, even though it was not the first time Keith reached out for Shiro (because he always, always reached for Shiro), it was this moment that Shiro first leaned into the touch on his face, the thumb touching the edge of the scar on his face.

When did this happen, he thought to himself, letting his forehead fall forward to settle against Keith's knee, when did I start to fall like this?

He had plenty of time to think about it, but he couldn't seem to pinpoint the exact moment he started to see Keith like this. All he knew was he'd been watching Keith unconsciously for a while now, and he hadn't even realized it because it all felt so natural. Keith responded to everything Shiro did. A hand on Keith shoulder always gifted him with a gentle smile that only Shiro was allowed to see. It was always Keith, he realized.

He began to fall a long time ago, and continued to fall slowly, though it felt more like floating, until all of a sudden he was engulfed in this feeling. He wanted to hold Keith, wanted more of that smile, soft black hair between his fingers, and more, so much more. Everything; but he held back, there was too much at stake, a war needed to be fought.

Then it was Keith who fell in a trail of amaranthine sparks and streaks that left an imprint of smoke in the sky, before the Black Lion crashed into the Earth and systematically cracked a line through Shiro's heart. He'd lost so much, by now he knew he should've been able to deal with it, yet this was one thing... one thing he couldn't deal with. He could lose the Atlas, he could lose his place as a paladin, he could lose Adam and his own damn sanity.

But he could not lose Keith, because in truth, Keith was the reason he was alive. He was the reason Shiro wanted to continue living, and all he wanted was the chance to tell him that. He thought he'd lost that chance, even when standing in the hospital room back at the Garrison, watching Keith lying in a too big bed looking too small, bandages around his head and breath coming slow.

It took him a long time to wake up, longer still to make any progress in his recovery. Fighting Sendak and then the Altean mech had drained away every last ounce of strength Keith had, before ripping his Quintessence from his already sensitive body. While the other paladins began to rise and walk around, easing the aches from their bodies, Keith remained tucked into his hospital bed, and when Shiro sat with him to cradle his fingers in the only flesh and blood hand he had left, he cradled them like he was craddling the world.

Keith didn't deny the touch, turning his hand to slot his fingers between Shiro's, and beyond the slight jump of his heart in his chest, he felt nothing but ease and familiarity. This is something they'd done before, gentle touches and simply being together in comfortable silence. It was normal, and Shiro found himself wondering if they'd been this... this loving even back before Kerberos. It was like they'd been together, like that, for years.

"Keith," he tested in a soft voice, not wanting to disturb the other man, but a slight returned squeeze to his fingers assured him that Keith was still awake, so he dragged the chair a little closer and leaned on the bed, hesitating, "Listen, I... I've been thinking, ever since I woke up, since you brought me back. No, that sounds stupid, I... well I've been thinking. I want to try something."

"Hm," Keith uttered the noise to show he'd heard and was still listening, squeezing Shiro's hand a second time to urge him to continue.

"Um... I just... Keith, I-I don't want to push you, I know you're tired, but I need to see you, please."

Keith opened his eyes, rolling his head on the pillow to face Shiro, looking concerned, "What is it?" he asked, not forcefully or in annoyance, but with a kind tinge in his voice that made Shiro melt, because Keith cared so much.

"I want to try this," Shiro said, then squeezed Keith's hand impossibly tight, so tight he worried he might break Keith, though he knew Keith wasn't breakable, not in that way at least.

Keith was a leader, a warrior and a soldier, he was the head of Voltron, member and legacy of the Blade of Marmora, Galran, human, alien and yet not. Keith was the embodiment of lithe power and stealth prowess. Keith was strong, he wasn't breakable and he wasn't small; he was equality.

"You... me...," Shiro tested, knowing that Keith might not understand through the drugged haze of his mind, "... us... I want to..."

Keith's eyes widened, and Shiro could tell he understood. That was another reason, Shiro realized. He was bad at talking like this, at talking in aspects of his own relationship. He was bad at romance in general, bad at love. Or at least, he was bad at expressing that love through verbal confirmation. He knew how to love, absolutely, and he put his heart and soul into every waking moment of loving another person. He'd just never been that good at explaining romantic emotions, never been good at maintaining anything other than a shaky illusion of forever.

With Keith, though, he found that he wasn't worried about that at all, because Keith knew every inch of his mind, even the broken and dusty parts. Keith knew Shiro better than anyone, and he knew exactly what Shiro was trying to say even without using the words he really wanted to.

Shiro wanted to bluntly take his hand and say, "Be my boyfriend. Stay with me."

All he could manage was, "I want to try us."

And Keith understood, and his face went red, keeping Shiro's anxious and intent gaze with wide eyes before he sank a bit into the bed, shoulders hunching from the force of his soft laughter. It shook his body, though no more than a chuckle left his lips, a hand lifting to cover his eyes and drag down his face as he pulled Shiro's hand close, holding it to his lips with closed eyes and a smile.

"Us, huh?" he tried for confirmation, and Shiro nodded, repeating with a slow and whispered tone.

"Us."

"Yea," Keith sighed, leaning his cheek into Shiro's palm, "I do too. I want to try us. I already told you, maybe you don't remember," he opened his eyes to look at Shiro again, his smile breathtaking, "I-."

"I know," Shiro interrupted, standing from the chair and instead taking a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning over Keith, keeping a hand on his cheek and tracing the scar there with his thumb, "I know, I remember, I... I do too, Keith," he laid his forehead against Keith's, and through the drug laden clouds in his eyes, he saw clarity and adoration that mended the rift in his chest, "I love you too."

~~~

Shiro still daydreamed of marriage. Just with a different audience.

Balmeran crystals, he realized, were far more beautiful than he originally thought, and in the past few years the Balmeran citizens had perfected their ability to mold and craft it into rare and admittedly expensive, near priceless items for trade in the Intergalactic Alliance.

The crystal Shiro held in his flesh hand was purposely shaped and sized, carved with facets and tiny designs that caught the light of the sun as he held it out. The crystal was a fuzzy blue shade that glowed in certain settings, near see through with cloudy portions that made it seem imperfect and flawed, but it was exactly what Shiro wanted, what he needed.

Shay was the only one who knew, and she'd been happy to craft it, hands over her chest as she leaned forward in order to see Shiro's soft expression, the smile on his lips that reached his eyes and made them look like stars.

"Do you approve?" she asked, and he dragged his gaze from the perfectly crafted crystal to smile at her.

"This is perfect, it's better than I could have imagined, Shay. Thank you so much."

"Of course. I am always happy to help," she held her hand out for Shiro to place the small object, and he took a moment to marvel over how her hands could craft something so delicate with such precision, "All Balmera crystal glows, it is a quality that I can not remove. Will it be a problem?"

"Not for me," Shiro was quick to reassure her, "I chose the material for a reason," his left hand moved to the cool metal of his right, touching the back of it, "A crystal is what powers my arm, it's what powers the Atlas. At the very least, if Keith needs power like this, if he needs a crystal, then he'll have one."

"Do you believe he would ever use this for such a thing?"

Shiro gave an exhale through his nose, one corner of his lips twitching, "Maybe not, knowing him, but the option being there is a good idea. Plus," he held his hand out to accept the item again, "it's beautiful, and... I want to give him something unique, something otherworldly, something to connect us together and remind him of his connection to the stars."

"You are sweet," Shay decided, and Shiro smiled at her.

"I'm grateful to you. No one else would have been able to make this, and I don't think I would have asked anyone else if you'd said no. It had to be you, one of the first people Voltron helped. The first that ever made a difference."

The gray of Shay's cheeks paled in blush, and she smiled with a laugh, hugging Shiro when he held his arms out and waving as he turned to leave.

A few years had past since the final fight. Shiro had waited for the right time, waited for things to settle down, waited until he and the others had relaxed into their routine working as peacekeepers, defenders of the universe, ambassadors of the Intergalactic Alliance. Everything was perfect. Shiro had everything he could ever want, so now all he needed was this one final thing.

No more daydreaming. This was real. What else was real? Ah. Yes, Shiro knew. Even in the past few years, being together with Keith romantically for long enough that their relationship was old news through the entire universe due to their work and travels with the alliance, he was still so, so bad at it.

He had what he needed, he had the words, he just had no idea how to... say it out loud. He didn't know how to ask. Or when the right time would be. His first attempt would be after their weekly Alliance meeting. Of course they lived together, Shiro could do this any time really, but he wanted to be unique and spontaneous. If he were brave enough he would get down on one knee during the meeting itself, but there was a military part of him scolding him for having that idea at all, and how dare he even consider ruining a meeting this important with his cheesy attempt at romance.

It always took his breath away when he saw Keith after a long day, and it was no different when he stepped into the conference room with Lance jawing beside him (something about surfing and Allura). Keith was dressed in uniform, one he'd fought hard to earn, one he deserved more than others, gray and black with gold stripes at his shoulders and an officer badge on his chest. There was a special cuff of fabric pinned to his left sleeve up on his upper arm, colored deep black with the Voltron insignia etched into it.

The other paladin's wore the same extra badge, colored for their respective lions and etched with their insignia.

In addition to the cuff, the gray uniform had been altered just slightly, almost more fashionably, to also include the geometric wrap that the senior Blade's wore to initiate their status, wrapped up over his right shoulder almost symbolically covering the scar with double the fabric, leaving his left shoulder bare to show off the gold badges. The uniform showed Keith wasn't just a Garrison pilot and officer now, but a paladin of Voltron, a Blade senior. He'd grown up, he'd grown into himself, and he probably held more power in status alone than anyone else in the room, besides maybe Shiro and the newly appointed Admiral Sam Holt.

Keith certainly held himself like a man only humbled by his position, his altered uniform tight on his body, hair grown out and braided back. Another sign of status in the Blade of Marmora that he refused to change. The higher ups at the Garrison had a field day discussing Keith's choice of outfit and appearance. The hair was against regulation, the alterations to the officer uniform were an insult to the good Galaxy Garrison name, but Keith just shot them all down with a piercing gaze.

"I'm not just an officer here, I'm also a co-head of the Blade of Marmora, and I have a right to show that status. I'm not ashamed of what I am, and I'm sorry if you are, but it won't change. I'm Galra, I'm human, and I'm a poster board for peace in this alliance between us and the Blades."

That was the end of it, and the Garrison officials stopped trying to argue with Keith altogether.

When their eyes met across the room Keith smiled, and Shiro, ever that teenager sinking in his first love, returned it with his own dopey expression. Matt, sitting to his right, squinted his eyes a bit at the exchange, leaning towards Shiro as Keith started to make his way around the table.

"Shiro you've been with him like three years, but you're still ogling him like you've never seen him before."

Shiro turned to give him a frown, "Like you're one to talk?" then turned in his seat to greet Keith once he'd taken a place right beside him.

The meeting was slow and dragged, Shiro kept his left hand under the table so he could hold Keith's, and the others around the table were completely aware of it, but they didn't bring it up. Like Matt said, it had been three years since Shiro and Keith had started this, whatever it was, the "us" that they decided to bet on. It was completely normal to see them holding hands or touching some way during meetings.

After this long, it was decided that sometimes the physical contact between the two was detrimental to the survival of whatever plans they were making. Whenever the conversation wired Keith up enough to get angry, sclera tinting yellow and teeth gritting, only Shiro's hand on his thigh can calm him down. Even rarer than those incidents are when the discussion weaves into a topic that triggers Shiro without warning, unwanted memories flashing before his eyes until he feels the familiar hand holding his, their fingers lacing together so Shiro can hang on for dear life and ground himself in Keith's presence until the meeting is over so he can leave and calm down.

They needed each other, that was that, and no one had the energy to argue with two of the strongest people in the universe, not even mentioning their high status.

"I'm supposed to help with training regarding a few cadets," Keith stated once the meeting had ended, standing up but facing Shiro, "Lance asked if I'd help out for a bit. After that I have a meeting with Kolivon about a deep space mission. He wants my insight on potential Blades to send, since I've been training so many newcomers in my spare time with mom."

"No problem, I've got some paperwork myself," Shiro said, face drawing just at the thought of it and wondering idly why no one told him piloting required so much fucking paperwork.

The heavy expression faded quickly when Keith put a hand on the back of his neck, leaning down to drop a kiss against the bridge of his nose, over the scar there, ancient by now and faded to near white, a thumb at one edge and rubbing a circle against it as Keith leaned lower to kiss his lips instead.

There were still others in the room, though it was mostly empty with a few lingering presences, but all of them seemed entirely too fascinated with their hands or tablets. Matt, still sitting beside Shiro, was holding his tablet up and held against his face, muttering out a "fascinating" as if he was actually watching something and not giving his friends privacy the only way he could think of.

Keith parted from the kiss and backed away, turning, stopping when Shiro's arm shot out to grab his wrist.

"Wait! One thing! Before I forget, Keith, this is important, will you-!" marry me.

The last two words caught in his throat and fluttered around in his head before poofing out of existence, and the devil on his shoulder sat there asking what kind of a dumb ass proposal was that supposed to be?

Keith just stared down at him, blinking, and Shiro felt his cheeks flush, "Uh, ice-cream," he finished, and Keith arched a brow as Matt fell forward, slamming his head against the desk, "Will you... pick some ice-cream up on your way... home...?"

"Yea, no problem," Keith agreed, reaching over to squeeze Shiro's fingers, smiling, "I'll get a few kinds if you want."

"Sure," Shiro's voice cracked like he was sixteen again, and he let go of Keith, waving and watching him leave the room before sinking into his seat and covering his face with his hands.

Matt propped his elbow against the table, chin in his hand as he turned to stare at Shiro, "That went well."

"Shut up."

"I think you're overthinking it, Shiro. You already know he's gonna say yes. Just ask when you're eating dinner or something. Or text him, you could do that too."

"That's not romantic though," Shiro lamented, dropping his hands to his lap, "I wanted it to be special."

"Shiro, anything you do will be special. He's crazy about you. Besides, you've never been one for romance, so I think if you proposed over a candle light dinner, he'd freak out thinking something was wrong. Just consider that."

Shiro did, and he hated that Matt was right, but also grateful, because his Plan B for proposing to Keith was over dinner. He decided not to do that, though, and stayed in for the night. They made a home fresh dinner together (Keith cooked it, Shiro stood there looking pretty), then curled up together on the couch to watch a movie with bowls of too much ice cream.

It was everything simple and domestic and entirely Keith and Shiro and what their lives, their relationship had been about for the past three years. It wasn't fancy or overtly romantic, it wasn't loud and it wasn't overwhelming. Their relationship, their love, was soft and gentle and always felt like fresh air. No matter how many days they spent together, repeating these simple mundane tasks together, it was like the first time, and that's what made it so special.

Shiro helped Keith wash dishes by standing behind him, arms around his waist and face in his hair, eyes shut and a smile on his lips as he melted from the heat of Keith's back against his chest, his flesh hand teasing the hem of his shirt and slipping beneath it to slide the pads of his fingers along his stomach.

Keith was having none of that, taking the towel from where it was hanging at his shoulder and using it to smack Shiro directly in the face, "If you have time for that you have time to help me clean. What am I, a maid?"

"Hey, that makes me feel like a dirtbag," Shiro mumbled, hiding his face against Keith's shoulder, "I'll help. I'll clear the table. Want me to clean the living room?"

"Just the table is fine for now," Keith played along, even though he really didn't mind Shiro hanging over him while all he was doing was washing dishes.

Having a hand up his shirt was distracting, and he didn't want to break anything. His blood had heated considerably just with a simple touch, though, and he was all too happy to clumsily shut all the lights off while dragging Shiro into their bedroom and falling into the bed with him hover above, the only light coming from the moon cutting through the blinds, and the hazy blue glow of Shiro's prosthetic arm.

"You caused a problem so fix it, sir," Keith teased, and a shiver ran down Shiro's spine, prompting him into movement for the next two hours at least.

He always liked to take his time when he was intimate with Keith, and the younger officer never did complain about it. Shiro was pretty sure the moans that left him were more affirmations that he really enjoyed what was happening, rather than him scolding Shiro for going too slow. He loved it, they both did, Shiro's arms wrapped tightly around Keith as they both moved and laughed.

Another quirk, Shiro thought to himself. Did he ever used to laugh during sex? Was it normal? Something told him it was better than normal. Breathless laughter into each others mouth between rolling hips and choked out moans and whines of pleasure, but it was the laughter, always the laughter that had Shiro feeling so satisfied.

He loved him. He loved him so much. He wanted to marry him. Shiro daydreamed again, lying on his back in the afterglow with Keith curled around him, head against his chest, one hand holding his hip. Shiro kept his arm wrapped around Keith's shoulders, eyes on the ceiling and the little glowing stars Keith had glued up there when they first moved in.

He claimed the stars would remind them of space, and that it would be relaxing to look at, and he'd been right. Keith had even taken the time to position them in such a way that Shiro could pick out constellations, their favorite constellations. Keel, Orion's Belt, even a few from Olkari's star system. The best parts of their travels had been immortalized on the walls, and Shiro smiled warmly, rubbing Keith's shoulder with the thumb of his metal hand, the cool of its surface relaxing against Keith's heated skin.

They both smelt of sweat and desert heat, Keith smelt like home, he always smelt like home, and now it had a new meaning and new depth to it. Shiro buried his nose into the crown of his hair and breathed in, eyes closing. For a moment he was close to falling asleep, until Keith shifted around a bit, bringing him back to consciousness.

"Baby?"

"I'm fine," Keith quickly reassured, fingers tapping a rhythm out against Shiro's chest, "Just getting comfortable."

"Mm."

"And... I was thinking, too, you know? 'Bout us. You know, the "us" we decided we wanted to try out?"

"That so?"

"I think we've been like this almost four years," Keith admitted, hand rubbing over the area on Shiro's chest he'd been tapping with his fingers, "That's a long time. I guess it means "us" works pretty well."

"Yea," Shiro chuckled, "Us really does."

"Hey, Shiro."

"Hm?"

"Let's get hitched."

There was a moment where silence stretched out in the bedroom, until Shiro sat bolt upright, nearly knocking Keith onto the bed, both of them startled as Kieth sat back, gaping at Shiro's openly surprised and equally frustrated face.

"What? What's with that?"

"Kieth you ruined it!" Shiro complained, a childish tone on his tongue, and Kieth was about to ask what the hell he meant before the pilot leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed his jeans from where they'd dropped, searching the pockets and pulling something out, turning back to Keith and holding his hand out with the palm open.

Sitting there was a ring of crystal that glowed a steady blue, and Keith's breath hitched in his throat as he looked from it and up to Shiro's eyes, which were catching the blue light in the best way.

"Will you marry me?"

Keith opened his mouth, nothing came out, so he shut it, collecting his thoughts and offering a statement that contradicted the tears swimming in his eyes, "I asked first."

Shiro grinned as the tears broke down Kieth's cheeks, reaching his left hand out so Shiro could take it in his own and slip the ring onto his finger, "Fits perfect," he praised, "I asked Shay to help. What do you think?"

Keith swallowed thickly and lifted his hand towards his face to see better, the dim glow catching on his mauve and indigo iris', blending together so his eyes looked like galaxies of stars, "It's really... it's cool," he said, voice a little shaky, like he couldn't figure out the best thing to say, "Beautiful, it... something's carved on it?"

"Yea," Shiro leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Keith's, "It's small, but can you still read it?"

"Not in the dark..."

"Later then, look later," Shiro said, arms coming around Keith.

He could have told him, but there was something catching at the back of his throat as tears began to fill his eyes, and he didn't want to ruin it by humiliating himself with the revelation that he asked Shay to carve "we saved each other" into the surface of the engagement ring. Save that for later.

"You didn't answer my proposal," he said into Keith's ear, and Keith snorted.

"You didn't answer mine."

"Well," Shiro pulled away, rubbing his nose across Keith's, "I agree, we should get hitched. So will you marry me?"

Keith laughed softly at that, tipping his chin up so their lips could brush together, "Yea... yea, I think I will."


End file.
